


Got a Secret, Can You Keep It

by Sarahbob



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Anniversary, Caring boyfriends, Cuddles, Established Relationship, Fluff, Good Friend Combeferre, M/M, Mentions of self-harm, Mentions of/implied rape, Modern AU, Secrets, no graphic descriptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:51:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1884288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahbob/pseuds/Sarahbob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What do you expect, Enjolras? We were supposed to celebrate our anniversary tonight. And then you come to my apartment all upset and out of sorts, bordering on a panic attack, I might say. You don’t talk to me, you won’t let me help you, you completely shut me out and then you run towards Combeferre." Grantaire has had it with Enjolras' behaviour and Enjolras decides to finally come clean to his boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got a Secret, Can You Keep It

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This story is a little sad, but it also has fluff and loving, caring boyfriends. TW for self-harm and non-con, though both are only mentioned or implied and neither are graphically described. Hope you like it!

Enjolras let out a deep breath and knocked on Grantaire's front door. He knew his boyfriend would probably still be pissed, but it was early and Enjolras hoped he could still turn this night around. Or at least try to make something out of it. It was supposed to be a special night after all. Just the two of them, celebrating their five months anniversary. But then something had happened at work and Enjolras left for Combeferre and his apartment in a panicked hurry.  
  
When Grantaire opened the door, Enjolras offered him a small smile and held up a plastic bag. "I've brought us some Thai food," he said quietly. He noticed how tired his boyfriend looked and felt guilty, because he knew he was the cause of Grantaire’s exhaustion.  
  
Grantaire clenched his jaw and stared at the blonde man in his doorway. After a few long moments he huffed and pushed his door a little further open. "Well, you're lucky I'm hungry," he grumbled as he turned around and stumbled back into his apartment.  
  
Enjolras followed wordlessly and placed the plastic bag on the kitchen counter. When Grantaire didn't make any move to help, Enjolras uttered another soft sigh and searched for some clean plates and cutlery in his boyfriend's messy cupboards. He knew he had screwed up, knew that he had probably hurt Grantaire, but he couldn't help it. There were just some things he didn't want to talk about. That he couldn’t talk about. Not with Grantaire or any of his other friends. He only talked about it with Combeferre, because he was the only person who knew about it.  
  
"You're still mad at me," Enjolras stated softly, looking up to see Grantaire shake his head on the couch. He still felt a little nervous, but he tried to push his anxiety away. It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve the cold shoulder.  
Grantaire closed his eyes for a moment and then turned to look at him. "No," he said quietly, "No, I'm not mad at you...I'm just confused... Disappointed... Hurt perhaps. Yes, definitely hurt…"  
  
Enjolras cringed inwardly and swallowed the growing lump in his throat. When he tried to pour himself and Grantaire a glass of water, he realized his hands were trembling and he cursed silently when he allowed one of the glasses to overflow. Enjolras opened his mouth to say something, but Grantaire beat him to it.  
  
"I mean, what do you expect, Enjolras? We were supposed to celebrate our anniversary tonight. And then you come to my apartment all upset and out of sorts, bordering on a panic attack, I might say. You don’t talk to me, you won’t let me help you, you completely shut me out and then you run towards Combeferre."  
  
Enjolras bit his lip. "I know it sounds bad if you put it like that R, but... I-I was meeting C-"  
  
"And it isn't even the first time you know," Grantaire interrupted him briskly. He stood from the couch and walked towards the counter, facing Enjolras. "It's every single, bloody time. Whenever you are upset, you go to Combeferre. And I get that you and him share this special bond or whatever, but damnit Enjolras, it hurts, alright! We've been dating for five months now, you should be comfortable enough to come and talk to me when something is bothering you. Don't you trust me?"  
  
Enjolras looked down at the food he was preparing and fought against the sudden sting behind his eyes. He put down one of the plates and carded a shaky hand through his curls. "It's not that, 'Taire, please don't think that..."  
  
"Well, what else am I supposed to think? You never talk to me."

That wasn't true, of course, and Grantaire knew it wasn't, but he felt bitter, maybe even a little jealous. He knew Combeferre was a good guy, a wonderful friend, actually, but Grantaire couldn't stand the fact that Enjolras would rather be comforted by Combeferre than by his own boyfriend.

"You always force me to talk, you know that? From the beginning we started dating, you wanted to know all about me. About my weaknesses, my fears, my worries. You always gave me a shoulder to lean on and you're always there for me when I have a bad day. You keep me grounded in ways that you don't even know about… And I… I used to count myself lucky… Man, I still do… I often think "what a wonderful boyfriend I've got, being so caring and compliant". But, you know, lately, I've come to think this whole relationship is all kind of one-sided."  
  
Enjolras looked at him, pleadingly. He felt awful that he made Grantaire think these things, feel that way. "R...," he started quietly.  
  
"I hardly know anything about you, Enjolras! I know what you're passionate about and I know your interests, but everybody knows those things about you. I hardly know anything about your past… Well, aside from the 'only child-shitty father' situation thing... I don't know if there is anything you fear or if you have any regrets. I don’t know why you suffer these horrible nightmares at times or when those panic attacks started… This whole relationship is focused on me and my life. Whenever I'm trying to get close to you, you turn away. You brush it off like it's nothing, or you go to Combeferre. How do you think that makes me feel?"  
  
Enjolras shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed quietly. _Tell him_. He heard Combeferre's voice say inside his head. _You_ _shouldn't keep this from him, Julien. He needs to know, and he’s going to find out eventually. You need to tell him_. But Enjolras was afraid. He was embarrassed. Grantaire fell in love with this idea of him as a perfect human being, this golden god. What if he didn't want him anymore once he knew his boyfriend was flawed?

"You don't understand, Grantaire..."  
  
Grantaire scoffed at him. "Damn straight, I don't understand, so why don't you try explaining it to me?"  
  
Enjolras shook his head slightly and walked past Grantaire to sit on the couch. He fumbled with his sleeve and bit the inside of his cheek. This was supposed to be a happy evening and now everything was ruined. He felt miserable and he hated himself for hurting Grantaire like this. Soon enough, Enjolras felt the cushions next to him dip and someone took hold of his hand. He looked up and watched Grantaire. His boyfriend still had that hurt look in his eyes, but the anger seemed to have disappeared a bit.

"Please, explain?" Grantaire asked in a softer voice.  
  
Enjolras shrugged a little and nodded, though he was still reluctant. "I... I do want to tell you things, R... I just… I don't know, maybe I'm not that good at all those sharing things. I've always been independent, you know that... I feel more comfortable handling things on my own, I don’t like to ask for help when I know I can deal with it myself... I need to know that I can, I don't know why, but that's important to me, to have that control... It's not that I don't want to tell you when I've had a shitty day, it's just that I don't feel like I should bother you with it if I can deal with it myself."  
  
Grantaire watched Enjolras talk with a small frown on his face and kept a loose hold on his boyfriend’s hand. He noticed how Enjolras kept fumbling with his sleeve and realized it was a habit he had seen Enjolras do a lot whenever he wasn't feeling well. Grantaire wanted to believe Enjolras' explanation, he really did, but there was one thing that still stung.

"You bother Combeferre with it though," Grantaire mumbled softly, trying not to sound too resentful.  
  
"That's different," Enjolras said quietly.  
  
"Different how? What makes you feel that you can't come to me instead? Don't... D-Don't you trust me?" Grantaire asked again, his voice cracking a little. He knew Enjolras loved him. But he was an insecure person by nature and there was always a part of him that feared that Enjolras didn’t think he was worth completely opening up to.  
  
Enjolras looked up at him and squeezed his hand. "Of course I do... I trust you with all my heart…" He took a deep breath and shifted a little on the couch. "I... I guess I’m just afraid... A-Afraid that you'll think I'm not the person you fell in love with..."  
  
Grantaire gaped at him. This was the first time Enjolras admitted that he was afraid of something. And not just anything… He was afraid of ruining what he had with Grantaire. Even though Grantaire had asked for this and even though he was glad that Enjolras was finally talking to him, he hated to see those tears in his boyfriend's eyes. They didn't belong there. And he hated it that they were there because Enjolras was afraid of him falling out of love.

"How could you think that?" Grantaire whispered as he reached out to brush a loose curl behind Enjolras' ear. "I love you…I'm in love with you. I have been in love with you since the moment I met you. There is nothing that'll ever change that."  
  
Enjolras shrugged wordlessly and gave Grantaire a tearful smile. Then he slowly reached for his arm and pulled the sleeve he had been fumbling with up as far as it could go. He swallowed nervously as the dozen scars appeared from under his clothing, some small, some a little bigger. Most of them were at least four years old, but they never faded. Next to him he heard Grantaire gasp in shock and he felt his heart sink.

"I go to C-Combeferre, because he's the only one who knows about this...a-and...and I need him sometimes to k-keep me grounded," Enjolras whispered after a few moments of deafening silence.  
  
Grantaire stared at Enjolras' pale arm with eyes so wide it would have been funny if the situation wasn’t so incredibly serious. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. More importantly, he couldn't believe how he had missed this in the five months they had been dating. How could he not have seen this? Grantaire was only just in time to grab Enjolras' wrist and keep it from pulling the sleeve down again. He carefully traced his finger across a few of the scars and looked up at Enjolras with concern in his eyes.

"You did this to yourself?"  
  
Enjolras averted his eyes and felt himself blush. He nodded once. "I kind of went through a rough time in high school... It was a long time ago..."  
  
Grantaire kept staring at the multiple white lines scattered around his boyfriend's forearm. He felt sick. Sick because Enjolras had once felt so miserable that he did this to himself. Sick because Enjolras was afraid that this was going to affect Grantaire's feelings for him. Sick because he hadn't noticed this before. He had missed it. In all the time they spend together… He had seen Enjolras naked, for God's sake and he had still missed it.

"I'm sorry...," Grantaire whispered shakily.  
  
Enjolras frowned. He wasn't really sure what he had expected, but it definitely wasn't an apology. "Why?"  
  
"I-I didn't know... God, Enjolras, I'm sorry... I should have seen this... I should've noticed. We've been together for five months! No wonder you went to Combeferre... I’ve been careless…"  
  
"Wait, what?" Enjolras interrupted, feeling confused, "No... R, you couldn't have known this. It's not your fault you didn't see... I kept it hidden, because I didn't want you to know. Believe me, I know how to keep it hidden. Even...e-even during our more intimate moments... I've been hiding it for years now... It's not exactly something I'm proud of, you know."  
  
It took Grantaire a moment to let the words sink in, but he still felt like he should have seen this. Then he pulled Enjolras in a bone crushing embrace and kept him close for at least ten minutes before asking: "What happened?"  
  
Enjolras took a shaky breath and pulled back. Now that he had let Grantaire in on one of his secrets, he knew he had to tell his boyfriend the entire story. It wasn't fair to keep it from him. And even though Enjolras was reluctant to bring it all up again, part of him wanted Grantaire to know about his past.

"It's not a happy story," he said softly, tracing the scars with his own hand, "You're not going to like it..."  
  
"That doesn't matter," Grantaire murmured, kissing Enjolras' forehead.  
  
Enjolras swallowed thickly and closed his eyes for a moment. "You're really not going to like it, R," he whispered so quietly, Grantaire almost didn't hear him.  
  
"You're only making me want to hear the story more, E...," Grantaire said softly, even though his heart was beating loudly in his chest and he felt a strange sort of dread come over him. “Please just tell me…?”

Enjolras took a deep breath and held it in for a few seconds before blowing the air out again. He pulled his legs up on the couch and leaned his back against Grantaire’s chest, so that he didn’t have to look at his boyfriend as he told the story. He didn’t think he was going to be able to get it all out when he saw the different emotions that would definitely shine in Grantaire’s eyes.

“I uh… I was fourteen years old when it happened,” Enjolras started shakily, smiling a bit when Grantaire wrapped one arm around his waist.

“You know how my dad and I never really got along… Well, my father had this younger brother and he was my favourite uncle. I really liked him and I kind of always wished he was my father. We shared many of the same interests and I could talk with him for hours about school or my friends or anything, really… He lived in the United States, so he didn’t come by often. Usually only once a year and then he’d stay for about a week or so…”

Grantaire nodded and rested his chin on top of the mop of curls. He had never heard Enjolras speak about his uncle before and he wondered why. If he was such a cool guy, then why hadn’t his boyfriend mentioned him?

“Well… That year he came by the week that I turned fourteen… As a surprise for my birthday. I remember how thrilled I was. I thought it was the best birthday present I’d had in years. Especially because my father was going away for a couple of days, so it would just be me and my uncle…”

Enjolras paused for a moment and Grantaire swore he could feel a tremor go through his boyfriend’s body. He felt a strange feeling of dread come over him and he unconsciously tightened his hold on Enjolras.

“It… W-We had a few wonderful days at first… Although I thought he was different from the last time I saw him. We still talked about a lot of things, but he kept making these weird comments… About my hair… o-or sometimes about my eyes or body. I didn’t want to think anything bad of it, because I loved the guy, you know… But it did make me feel slightly uncomfortable.”

The feeling of dread grew instantly and mixed with a hot anger that settled in the pit of Grantaire’s stomach. He clenched his teeth and forced himself to stay silent and let Enjolras continue his story.

“Then… T-Then a little while later he would accompany his compliments with touches. Nothing too bad, but… but definitely not appropriate either. I talked to Combeferre about it at school and he told me to say something, because it wasn’t okay for my uncle to make me feel uncomfortable. He was actually ready to go and talk to the man himself, b-but I didn’t want him to. It took me a day to find the courage to finally tell him to back off. I told him one evening that I didn’t like the things he was saying and that the way he looked at me or touched me at times made me feel weird… I told him I didn’t like it… at all…”

Enjolras fell silent again and Grantaire could feel his body go tense. After a couple of minutes, he kissed the top of Enjolras’ head and gently squeezed his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Go on…,” he said in a slightly choked voice.

Enjolras took another deep breath. “Well… That’s when it all turned to hell… My uncle was furious. He yelled at me and he started throwing things. He shouted how I could accuse him of something like that and how arrogant I was for thinking he would even want me… And I… I was scared. Well, terrified, actually, and I tried to run… I wanted to leave the house and go to Combeferre’s, but he blocked my way… A-and then… Then he said t-that he would show me how much he actually liked me…”

Enjolras tried to swallow the massive lump in his throat, but failed. It was still so hard to tell the story, even though it happened six years ago. Enjolras hated how his voice kept trembling and how his heart beat so fast he had to pause between words only to catch his breath.

“I tried to fight him off… I… I did everything I could think of, but he was much too strong and it was only him and me in the house. I grew tired far too soon and he… Well… he… He forced me…”

Enjolras couldn’t say the words. It had been six years and he still couldn’t say the words. He couldn’t tell Grantaire he was violated. Raped. Abused.

But his boyfriend didn’t need to hear the words. Just as Combeferre had all those years ago, Grantaire, too, understood what had happened without hearing the exact description. His blood was boiling and he saw red. He wanted nothing more than to scream and find Enjolras’ uncle to make him pay. But all he did was turn Enjolras around in his arms to keep him close. He buried his face in the crook of Enjolras’ neck and tightened his hold. He didn’t cry.

Enjolras returned the embrace and took a few deep breaths. It was hard to tell the story and it would probably never get any easier. But it had been six years ago and he had long learned himself to block out those awful feelings and memories of that night – at least for the most part. Enjolras didn’t cry either.

“I’m sorry…,” Grantaire choked out. “God… Enjolras, I’m so sorry…”

Enjolras smiled a little and pressed a kiss against the shoulder his head was resting on. “Thank you… But it happened a long time ago, R… I’m alright now. I promise. Apart from the nightmares I have at times, it doesn’t really bother me anymore. I’ve given it a place and I’ve dealt with it. It doesn’t haunt me, I swear…”

Grantaire didn’t answer, but just held on a little tighter.

“S-so… The uh… The scars… Is this the reason you did that?” Grantaire asked after a little while, still not letting go of his boyfriend.

Enjolras nodded and cleared his throat. “I uh… My father returned the day after it happened… My uncle left soon after that. He didn't lay another hand on me, luckily. But I… I was so damaged, so broken and terrified. I didn’t tell anyone what had happened. I was so ashamed of myself, so humiliated. I mean… I told everyone what a brilliant guy my uncle was, you know… I felt like I had made such a fool of myself, so I kept it silent. I figured that I’d be okay once he left for America again. But of course I wasn’t okay. I struggled a lot in class and I avoided hanging out with my friends, because they knew something was wrong. I had a massive fight with Combeferre when he confronted me about my behavior… he and I didn’t speak for two months after that…”

Grantaire closed his eyes. He couldn’t imagine Enjolras and Combeferre being at odds.

“I was drowning… I felt like I had lost all control over my life and you know how important it is for me to have that control. I had nightmares every single night, I had flashbacks and anything could trigger a panic attack. Even my father was concerned, which really is something sort of a miracle… I was living in that horrible moment, in the past and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fight my way back. Until I found something on the internet that said how pain could function as way to ground oneself. How it could bring you back to the present and give you some of your control back…”

Enjolras pulled back from Grantaire’s embrace and looked down at his arm. He traced his finger across one of the vaguest ones.

“I tried it… Right here… This was the first one. And I felt disgusted with myself afterwards. I hated myself and I couldn’t believe I had actually done it…But.. B-but…”

Grantaire covered Enjolras’ hand with his own and pulled it up to kiss the knuckles. “But it worked,” he finished quietly.

Enjolras nodded. “It worked… Whenever I hurt myself that way, I didn’t feel the pain of what my uncle did to me. I didn’t flash back to that moment anymore, I didn’t panic anymore. It made me feel calm and grounded. By making those cuts, I was able to decide what I wanted to feel. I had control to shut out those terrible wounds my uncle had made. It made me feel better again… Don’t get me wrong… I mean… I know that what I did was dangerous and I felt guilty for doing it. But it worked, R… I was able to concentrate on school again. I cleared things up with Combeferre… Everything went better… And that end alone justified all means to me.”

Grantaire understood. Of course it was terrible that Enjolras did that to himself, but he did understand. It was a way of dealing without really having to confront the problem at hand. Grantaire recognized it. He had sought his release in the bottle for many years to run away from his past.

“The problem with self-harm though,” Enjolras continued quietly, “is that it is addictive. Once you do it, it’s really hard to stop. It makes you feel better… I tried to stop once or twice, but I couldn’t. I knew that if I wanted to quit, I’d need help, but if I wanted help, I’d have to tell what made me do it in the first place and I couldn’t do that. I didn’t want to do that. So I just… kept doing it… until Combeferre found out…”

“If I know Combeferre a little, I’m guessing he wasn’t very understanding?” Grantaire asked soflty.

Enjolras snorted quietly. “Not at first, no… He was furious and devastated at the same time. He had just gone to college that year, so we didn’t see each other that much anymore. I guess he felt really guilty for not knowing I was doing that to myself…”

Grantaire frowned. Enjolras was fourteen when he started cutting… which meant Combeferre would be sixteen, nearly seventeen at the time and that shouldn’t be the right age to go to college. “How long did you do it before Combeferre found out?”

Enjolras swallowed thickly. “Nearly a year and a half,” he admitted quietly. “I stopped when my uncle came to visit again… I was terrified to see him again, so I ran away to Paris in blind panic. When I arrived at Combeferre’s apartment, I nearly passed out. He tried to calm me down and put me to bed… Took off my clothes… That’s when he found out. I had to tell him everything after that…”

Grantaire nodded.

“Like I said… He was furious at first, but mostly devastated. He hated himself for not knowing something was wrong… Which wasn’t actually true, because that’s why we got into a fight in the first place… He cried a lot… And then he turned into the Combeferre we all know and love… Taking matters into hand, helping me, guiding me, guarding me… He promised me he wouldn’t go to the police, but he did force me to get myself checked on STD’s, which I luckily didn’t have. He came back with me to Montpellier, nearly spend every waking second with me to make sure I didn’t cut again and made a deal with my father so that I could move in with him in Paris and finish school here…”

Enjolras smiled when he thought back to that moment. He had been so happy when his father agreed to letting him stay with Combeferre.

“Things were really difficult for a while… I didn’t want to go to therapy, but Combeferre made me go at least a couple of times. He always went with… After that he was the one to help me stop. We talked a lot… about what triggered it, why I felt the need to do it, if there were things I could do instead… And somehow we found a way to make it work. He became the thing to keep me grounded in the present and I learned how to deal with what happened to me.”

Grantaire squeezed Enjolras’ hand again and smiled. He felt immensely grateful towards Combeferre and he respected his bespectacled friend all the more. “So… When you go there…?”

Enjolras averted his eyes for a second. “I’m not going to lie to you, R… I know it’s been a long time since I did this and I’ve grown a lot stronger since then, but it’s still hard sometimes. I had a few slips in the last few years… This one here… it’s from eight months ago… I… I still feel that urge sometimes. When something happens that triggers it and I panic and all I want to do is… well… that. I go to Combeferre instead, because he and I have this routine to calm me down and force that urge back again…”

Grantaire nodded. He understood. And he felt awful for his outburst earlier. Of course he couldn’t have known the real reason why Enjolras went to Combeferre whenever he was really upset, but now that he did, he felt really bad for accusing Enjolras of being a bad boyfriend. He wanted to know much more about this whole situation. He wanted to know everything about it, actually. He wanted to know what the triggers were that Enjolras spoke about. He wanted to know what Combeferre did to make Enjolras feel grounded again. He wanted to know what he could do to achieve that same thing. But maybe now wasn’t the time. Enjolras looked exhausted and drained. Grantaire figured telling these things must have been really hard for him and all he really wanted to do was wrap his boyfriend up in a blanket and lie down together, shutting out the rest of the world.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” Grantaire began quietly, “I should’ve known you would have a good reason to go to ‘Ferre… Man, you don’t even need a reason… I just… I’m sorry, Enjolras… I’m really, sorry. B-But I’m so glad you told me this. And I’m so proud of you for everything…”

Enjolras smiled and blinked the sudden tears away. “I’m glad you know…,” he whispered softly, pulling the sleeve of his arm down again to hide the scars. “Combeferre told me I should tell you pretty much from the moment we started dating…”

“Well, he was right. You should’ve,” Grantaire agreed sternly. “But I understand why you didn’t… I can’t believe though that you feared that this was going to make me love you less, E… Honestly… That’s a little offending… I’m not that superficial, you know....And if it were possible, I’d love you even more.”

Enjolras blushed a little and nodded. He mumbled an apology and then pressed a kiss against Grantaire’s lips.

“Is it okay if we stop talking about this now and celebrate our fifth month anniversary?” Enjolras asked quietly. “I know the conversation isn’t over yet and I know I owe you more answers, but I’d rather have a happy evening now than dig further into this subject…”

Grantaire ran a hand through Enjolras’ curls, kissed his brow and nodded. “Of course… But we _are_ talking about this later, Enjolras… Maybe we could discuss things with Combeferre as well… I’d like to learn what he does to keep you from freaking out, so that maybe someday you can come to me as well when you feel bad… I mean… Only if you’d want that… It’s perfectly fine if you’d rather keep going to C-”

He was silenced by another kiss to his lips. “I’d like that,” Enjolras murmured against Grantaire’s mouth. “But now I want to eat my Thai food, curl up next to you and watch Game of Thrones.”

Grantaire grinned and he allowed himself to replace his hatred towards Enjolras’ uncle and his desperate need to know everything about Enjolras’ past with feelings of happiness and content.

“Sounds good,” he smiled, pulling Enjolras in another swift hug before standing from the couch and moving towards the kitchen. “You arrange the blankets and prepare the dvd-player and I’ll go warm up our food!”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the story. Reviews are appreciated, I always love to hear what you think! 
> 
> Come and say 'hi' on Tumblr (sarahbob24). I'm always in for a talk :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [shadows dancing on the floor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2020788) by [tobeconvincedoflove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobeconvincedoflove/pseuds/tobeconvincedoflove)




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